


Divine Design

by skamander



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Feeding, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Hannibal book, Talk of reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamander/pseuds/skamander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the event of the "Hannibal" book. Hannibal goes to visit Will Graham, and they both discover home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Divine Design

Winter in Florida this year was surprisingly cold, and on this particular evening the ominous skies had opened up, drenching the earth with an icy rain. 

Dr. Hannibal Lecter sat perfectly still in the driver’s seat of an old pickup truck, its green paint chipped and blending in with the trees it was tucked behind. Between the foliage, it seemed the only things that reflected any light were the doctor’s deep maroon eyes. And they stared, unblinking, watching the small sad structure of a house just beyond the trees. Or more appropriately, he stared at the man whose unfocused eyes looked blankly out into the rain. The man sat on the single chair on the wooden porch. A beacon that had floated too far out to sea. Will Graham. 

Dr. Lecter had been sitting this way for over an hour, as if he and Will were engaged in a staring contest, one daring the other to move first. But he knew Will couldn’t see him. The rain petered out to a drizzle. Finally moving, Hannibal lost the one-sided staring contest. This notion amused the doctor as he opened the door and slid from the truck. 

Steady steps through the wet grass carried Dr. Lecter towards the house. He never took his eyes off Will. And in his mind, he walked with steady steps down to a precious marble chamber in his memory palace. So far deep underground was this chamber, the devil himself feared to tread there. It was dark as he pulled open the heavy gilded double doors. In the darkness, he walked down a long marble walkway, his steps reverberating as evenly as the beats of his heart. He passed entwined shapes on either side of him. They were visible only in that barely lit way things are in the darkness, where you are more aware of them somewhere in your chest than seeing them with your eyes. Dr. Lecter approached some sort of altar at the end of the walkway. He had simply to extend his hand and brush his fingers to it and like a beast awakening, a great fire exploded up, illuminating the marble chamber and revealing the entwined figures for what they were: pairs of larger than life marble statues that stood on pedestals, reminiscent of ancient Greece. Each of them a treasured moment in time where he’d made physical contact with Will Graham. The fire lit them in the most terrifying and breathtaking chiaroscuro. Those moments were pure art. In his mind, Hannibal Lecter smiled. 

The smile echoed the one on Hannibal’s face as he came to stand just by the step up to the porch. An aura of rain fell gently onto his shoulders and the top of his head as he stood examining the man in front of him. 

Will Graham sat slumped in his chair. His gaunt frame scarcely held onto the worn trousers and old flannel shirt that covered it. Next to his bare, bony feet was a large, mostly empty bottle of Jack Daniels. No hint of that terrible aftershave hung in the air, made clear from the stubble covering his jaw that was just this side of too shaggy. And Hannibal could now see up close the fruits of his actions with the Red Dragon. A large, white scar cut from the corner of Will’s left eye, causing the lid to droop at the edge, down across his cheek to end just below the corner of his mouth, creating a permanent grimace. Tired, glassy eyes cradled by deep shadows were fixed somewhere around Dr. Lecter’s shoulder before they slowly traveled up to meet the eyes staring back at him. 

A faint gasp escaped Will, evident only by his lips barely parting, his chest rising just a little too fast, and Dr. Lecter’s keen hearing. Will quickly settled his features. “Hello, Dr. Lecter.” 

Dr. Lecter’s smile grew almost imperceptibly. “Hello, Will.” 

There was silence as one man gazed at the other. 

Hannibal spoke again. “May I come up?” 

“By all means.” Will made a movement somewhere between a small sweep of his hand and a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s not like I could stop you. You tend to do as you please.” 

Stepping up onto the porch so Will now had to lift his chin to keep their gaze, the doctor made a show of glancing around the porch. “I see you don’t surround yourself with strays anymore. But it seems like you’ve found something that more than makes up for any need for friends.” Hannibal toed the glass bottle at Will’s feet. 

“No, no more strays,” Will shot back, fighting to keep his tone even, yet anger hung in the back of his throat like a bad aftertaste. “Although one just showed up.” 

Hannibal said nothing, simply stared back at Will, amusement dancing over his features like flames that only served to fuel the heat of Will’s building rage. 

“How was Italy, Dr. Lecter? Or are you going by _Dr. Fell_ now?” Each of Will’s questions came shooting out like venom. “Where’s Clarice Starling? I heard she finally came to her senses and left you. Exchanged immunity for all the information on you they could wring out of her, right? I’m surprised you didn’t gobble her up. They say she was a double agent working against you the whole time. Too bad. It sucks to be all alone doesn’t it?” 

For a moment Dr. Lecter didn’t respond, only cocked his head slightly to the side like a hawk about to descend. When he spoke, his tone was perfectly calm. “Clarice Starling is a good girl. She always was. One day, she asked to leave. I knew she would. I could see it from the beginning. So I let her go. I told her to ask for immunity and I helped start the rumor of her being a double agent. I want her to live the rest of her life happy. _Her_ heart never lay in darkness. But they’ll never catch me. There was always only one man who ever could.” 

It was Will’s turn to be silent. The self-satisfied expression on Hannibal’s face lay Will’s his heart on a bed of nails. Tearing his eyes away to the rain was like ripping stitches. The rain had picked up again. “Yeah…” Will lifted the whiskey bottle to gulp down a burning mouthful. “And he doesn’t give two shits about you.” 

“That’s obvious, “ Hannibal replied. “Seeing as how the only thing he _‘gives two shits about’_ can be found at the bottom of a cheap bottle of alcohol.” 

Rain. Only the sound of falling rain. Dr. Lecter tried again. “You never answered my letter.” 

“They said you might come for me.” Will’s tone was cool on the surface when he turned back to the doctor. A fighter renewed and ready for a rematch. 

“Is that why you didn’t reply? So I would come?” 

“I’d have to care in order to want you to come, remember?” 

“You’re lying. You care. You always have. You can’t help it.” 

“I could call the police right now.” 

“But you’re not.” 

Will growled in frustration. “Did you come here just to insult me?” 

Hannibal held Will’s gaze. Hurt and sincerity were foreign visitors in his eyes. “ _I_ care too much to insult you. So, no, I came here to see you.” 

“See your handiwork you mean?” Will gestured at his scar. “Well, take a good long look and then you can see yourself out.” 

A gust of wind snaked through the porch, racking Will’s small body with a violent shiver. The rattle of Will’s bones vibrated in Hannibal’s heart. 

“Will, let me take you inside. You’re going to make yourself ill sitting out here barefoot.” 

Hannibal stepped towards Will, but Will was immediately on his feet. The chair scraped the wet wood of the porch and created the shriek of protest he was forcing his throat to make. 

“No. NO!” Will cried out, holding a hand out to keep the doctor at a distance. “You don’t get to do that!” 

“Do what?” Hannibal asked, continuing to advance as one would towards a cornered, wild animal. A feeling akin to pain coiled and squeezed at his ribs. He ignored it. 

“You don’t get to be nice to me and expect everything that ever happened to be forgotten. I won’t forget. I haven’t forgotten!” Will continued to step back as he spoke, his breath coming in furious bursts. It made Hannibal want to cover Will’s mouth with his own and swallow each of those breaths, taste them, savior them like a fine vintage. He yearned so fiercely to taste the man, it took everything he had not to pounce like the predator he was. 

“Will…you are being ridiculous. Let me take you inside.” Hannibal used what he knew to be his most soothing tone. “Let me make you something to eat, draw you a bath. Let me take care of you.” 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Hannibal was getting dangerously close. Will stepped back faster and tripping over his own feet, his eyes widening as he felt himself pitch backwards. 

Almost as if he knew this would happen, Dr. Lecter lunged forward and caught Will around the waist and they both sagged to the floor. Will struggled only a little in Hannibal’s grasp but the combination of his rage and the alcohol proved to be too much for him and he fell into a half state of consciousness. 

Hannibal cradled Will in his arms and brushes the hair away from Will’s forehead. The sensation of Will’s feather-soft curls against his fingertips was not lost on the doctor. He ran the edge of his thumb carefully down Will’s scar. It felt slightly colder than the rest of his skin. “Dear boy, when was the last time you ate anything?” 

Will looked up at the doctor with heavy eyelids and made a noncommittal noise. 

“Hmm, I thought so,” Hannibal replied like he’d received a real answer. He stood; lifting Will up with him, bridal-style. “Time for a bath and then I will make you something to eat.” 

It was silent and dark inside the house, though surprisingly not dirty. Slightly messy, yes, but Dr. Lecter expected this. The lack of canines was the oddest thing, making the house seem as empty as the man in his arms.

It wasn’t hard to find the bathroom. Hannibal flipped on the light and gingerly sat Will on the closed toilet lid. As he set about drawing the bath, he could feel Will watching him. He knew exactly what was coming. 

“I can do this myself,” Will protested, reaching a hand out as if that were enough to stop things. 

Hannibal straightened up from the tub. “No, Will, I don’t think you can.” 

They stared at each other for a moment. Will’s eyes shimmered and his voice was barely audible when he spoke. “Please go. I can’t take this.” 

In the silence, Hannibal swallowed a knot he didn’t realized had formed in his throat. This was not the time to see to their emotions. “I will make you a deal. If you can manage to stand and take your shirt off without falling over, I will let you bathe yourself.” 

Will’s eyebrow’s shot up. “You’re asking me to strip for you?” 

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

It would have been a flagrant lie to attribute the blush that graced Will’s cheeks entirely on his state of inebriation. A scowl twisted his features. He wanted desperately to slap the smirk off the doctor’s face. 

Placing a hand on the nearby counter, Will pushed himself to stand with a stubborn determination. Immediately, he began to sway. Hannibal reached out in an attempt to stabilize him. 

“No,” Will commanded. “I can do this.” 

Hannibal’s hands dropped by his sides and he watched Will lift shaky fingers to unbutton his shirt. Will’s eyes didn’t leave his. Dr. Lecter had to admit his friend had gotten better at eye contact. Then again, he’d always been different with the doctor. Always the space between them thick and alive with crackling sparks of electricity. Always they felt it against their skin like a pain so wrought with pleasure. 

Will had managed the first two buttons with little difficulty, but on the third, he began to sway again. Hannibal encouraged him with a slow nod. “You can do this, Will. You’ll be okay.” 

At that moment, Will’s knees gave out, and for the second time that evening, Hannibal caught him as he fell. “It’s alright. I’m here. I will help you,” Dr. Lecter told him, his tone void of any gloating. 

He sat Will down and knelt to unbutton his shirt for him, and for once, Will didn’t protest. And there was something so very childlike about Will in that moment. It filled Hannibal’s chest with an emotion that hollowed out his stomach. Will watched Hannibal’s face as he worked, searching for something. If he found it, he didn’t say. 

Cool fingertips grazing his chest made Will’s breath hitch as Hannibal pushed his shirt off. When the doctor unbuttoned Will’s pants and slipped his fingers behind the waistband, their eyes met. 

“I will spare you the irony of saying _‘Trust me, I’m a doctor_.’” Hannibal smirked up at Will. 

A mix between a scoff and a small laugh escaped Will. “It’s fine. Just do it.” 

As Will lifted his hips, Hannibal pulled his pants and underwear off together. They joined the discarded shirt on the floor. 

Will was completely naked now, but Hannibal’s eyes didn’t roam. Instead he leaned in and slipped his arms under Will’s to hold him in an embrace. The sensation of Will’s bare skin against him heated the synapses in the doctor’s brain to a boil. 

Will’s breath caught and began a rapid pace in Hannibal’s ear. 

“Shh…breathe, Will,” Hannibal almost cooed. “Put your arms around my neck. It’s time to stand. I’ve got you. I will not let you fall.” 

With the hesitation and fear of a baby fawn, Will placed his arms around Hannibal’s neck. The doctor lifted him bridal-style again and turned to place him in the brimming tub. 

Right away, Will curled into himself, hugging his knees. He looked so small in the water, like a forgotten little boat, lost at sea. It churned the doctor’s insides. 

Dr. Lecter found the shampoo and washed Will’s hair. There wasn’t much conversation aside from Hannibal directing Will to close his eyes while he worked a lather and to tip his head back when he cupped water to rinse it out. 

Taking up a sponge, the doctor carefully scrubbed Will’s back, the man under his hands keeping his eyes closed. 

“Will, lean back, please,” Hannibal requested. 

Will’s eyes snapped open and he obeyed without looking up at Hannibal. 

The doctor began working the sponge across Will’s shoulders and collarbone, then slowly slipped down, watching the ribbons of soap race and chase each other down Will’s skin. And then he realized what Will was looking at: blue eyes were fixed on the ghostly white, four-inch scar on Hannibal’s forearm. 

Hannibal froze in his ministrations, his hand just over Will’s heart and at the same time, Will looked up at him. Their gazes snagged like thorns entangling. Tears held Will’s eyes in an unsteady cradle and his voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Why?” 

Hannibal could play innocent right now; pretend he didn’t know what Will was talking about. Or he could take the oblivious route and pretend he thought Will meant something casual or immediate like the bath. Or he could just straight out lie. He could lie. He _could._  

The heart under Hannibal’s hand pounded hard, and he found his own echoed in rhythm. 

“I’m sorry.” What else could he say? 

Will turned fully toward Hannibal, gripping the edge of the tub with white knuckles. The sponge slipped from the doctor’s hand and floated away in the water. Will shivered with his tears and his words. “Is that all you have to say? Is that all I’m worth? God then why the _fuck_ are you here to torment me like this?” 

Swallowing, Hannibal placed his hands over Will’s. “I really am sorry. I did what I did because I wanted to show you that you were just like me. So you would be with me. From the moment we met, a childlike gluttony overtook my heart and I wanted to bring out the darkness inside you and spread it over us like a canopy, a dark night sky.” Hannibal brought a hand up to cup Will’s tear-streaked cheek. “I wanted keep you in the darkness with me forever. But your struggle was too great, and everything fell apart. And now you’re drinking yourself to death.” 

Will’s eyes darted from Hannibal’s eyes to his mouth and back, searching and searching for signs of deceit. Hannibal’s other hand came up to hold Will’s face. The scar that marred Will’s skin broke the doctor’s heart. But he loved this face no matter what. His insides burned for this face. 

“I can’t sleep, did you know that?” Will told him. His tears were coating Hannibal’s fingers, lacing through them like liquid thread. “My heart hurts too much. I want to forget, but I can’t. I drink to help me sleep, I sleep to remember everything that was ever good about what we had, but it all ends up turning into a nightmare, and I wake up screaming, my throat on fire. And then I wish I could return to the nightmare, because it’s the only place I could find you anymore. You’re a ghost haunting my mind.” 

“Dear, Will…” Hannibal’s thumb stroked flushed skin. “Then why didn’t you ever try to find me? You would have succeeded, I promise you that.” 

“Because you framed me for murder! Because you threw me in mental asylum! Because you sent a sick fuck to cut up my face! How could I possibly come after you? I loved you! I would have cut out my heart and put it in your hands if you asked. Don’t you see?” 

Hannibal’s heart swelled to fill his chest and beat in his throat. It was the doctor’s turn to search Will’s face. “Is that true…?” 

“How could you possibly doubt me? I haven’t called the police, have I? I’ve let you touch me because I want it, damn it! I would still cut my heart out because after everything, I will never hate you. I _still_ love you!” 

Will sprung up into Hannibal’s embrace, wrapping his arms around the doctor’s neck. Something inside Hannibal burst, and a heat radiate from his chest, racing outward to flood every crevice of his body it could find. And he found himself crying right along with Will. He held Will and peppered his neck with kisses, traveling up and along his jaw, whispering over and over, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” 

Pulling back just enough to look at Will’s face, he felt as if he were seeing it for the first time, and found Will’s expression mirrored his own. 

Hannibal pressed his forehead to Will’s. As Will exhaled, he could smell a little alcohol on his breath. “I think it’s time we got you out of this tub and fed you, sober you up. God forbid this was all drunk talk.” 

Will breathed a small laugh. “No…” 

“Come then. Hold on to me.” Hannibal stood, pulling Will up with him and out of the tub. He reached for a towel and wrapped it around Will, who was a little steadier on his feet now. As Will dried his body, Hannibal grabbed a smaller towel and began ruffling Will’s curls dry. The younger man looked up at Hannibal and giggled when he did this and Hannibal couldn’t help laughing with him, and it seemed for a short while, that all that poisoned their past ceased to exist. 

“Okay, you get dressed. I’m going to make you something to eat. Come when you are ready.” 

Will rubbed his nose with the towel and smiled. “Okay.” 

Dr. Lecter pressed his lips to Will’s forehead and left the bathroom. 

As Hannibal made his way to the kitchen, his pulse continued to thrum. Raiding Will’s pantry and fridge, he found ingredients to create a somewhat acceptable soup. He laughed at himself for the giddiness that clung to his ribs while he worked. Will had said he loved him. No one had said that to him in a very, very long time. He blinked away the water in his eyes, attributing it to the onion he was chopping. 

Will walked in just as Hannibal was placing a heaping bowl on the table of the dining nook. His trousers were barely suspended by his jutting hipbones and only two buttons of his shirt were done up about his stomach. Hannibal was surprised when Will headed straight for his arms. Will breathed into Hannibal’s neck deep enough to taste him, then looked up at the doctor.  “You’re still here.”

“Should I not be?” Hannibal asked. 

“Oh no!” Will shook his head. “I just thought I was dreaming.” 

“Another one of those nightmares you mean?” 

“No,” Will replied as they both took their seats at the small table. “No, this time it would’ve been a good dream. A wonderful one.” 

“Well, allow me to make it even better by serving you a nice vegetable soup,” Hannibal told him. 

Glancing down at the steaming bowl front of him, Will couldn’t have been more perplexed if he’d been presented with the riddle of the Sphinx. “You actually found something in that kitchen to make soup from?” 

“I’m very resourceful when need be, as you know.” 

Will laughed. “Yes, I do.” 

“Please, go ahead an eat.” 

For a few moments, Will just stared at the soup, then pick up the spoon and slowly put it in the bowl, before letting go of it and putting his hand back in his lap. 

Hannibal’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” 

“No, no. It’s not that. It looks great. Just...” Will looked helplessly at Hannibal. “I’m so tired.” 

As a silent response to a silent request too shy to be made, Hannibal picked up the spoon, skimmed it through the soup and held up for Will. A blush seeped across Will’s cheeks and nose as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the spoon. 

“Mmm…” Will gazed at Hannibal with the sad eyes of a little boy who hadn’t experienced the feeling of being taken care in a long time. “I’m sorry, Hannibal.” 

“Whatever for? I suspect I enjoy this even more than you do,” Hannibal answered. 

Will smiled then, and it was a smile that brought a long exhale with it and set his shoulders down where they should be. 

Under the table, Hannibal felt his hand taken. And they sat that way with their fingers fitted as perfectly together as a key in a lock while Hannibal fed Will almost half the bowl in blissful silence. 

When Hannibal had seen that Will had eaten a fair bit, he finally spoke. “Will, you asked me why I came here. I came here because this where I should be, with you. I’m home. But…I can’t stay here.” 

As Hannibal predicted, Will stopped eating. What he didn’t predict was Will’s hand slipping from his as he sat back and looked anxiously at Hannibal. “Why?” 

“You know why,” Hannibal replied, setting the spoon down. “The FBI would hunt me down here in no time, which is why I have to go.” 

“Where will you go?” 

“Morocco, I think. I want you to come with me.” 

Will stared down at his lap and didn’t answer. 

“There’s nothing left for you here, my dear Will.” 

The younger man looked back up then. “Do you believe in fate?” 

Hannibal lifted a brow. This was not what he has expected. “Fate?” 

“You know destiny and all that.” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“This may sound ridiculous,” Will explained. “But I feel as if my life has been working towards this. Like an imprint of what this is was always there and the details are now being revealed like a memory.” 

Hannibal’s heart swelled. “That is not ridiculous. Perhaps this is not the first life we have lived.” 

“You mean like reincarnation?” 

“Why not? Perhaps we were warriors together, fighting for the same cause.” 

“Side by side?” 

“Side by side.” 

“What, like knights of the round table?” There was a childlike excitement in Will’s voice he was fighting to hide. 

“Maybe,” Hannibal told him, his eyes glinting. 

Will’s face fell. “But if we are here now, that means we didn’t end up together then.” 

“No…we did not.” 

“What do you think happened to us?” 

“Something horribly tragically I imagine. We were mostly like torn apart by death; one of us died in battle.” 

“Oh…what happened to the other one?” 

“I believe he live a long life.” 

“But he must have been very sad.” 

“What do you believe?” 

“I believe, even if he lived a long life, his heart was shattered, and he was never able to piece it back together. And that’s worse, isn’t it? It’s worse to spend the rest of your life without the person you need most.” The blue in Will’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. 

“You’re right,” Hannibal whispered. “It’s the worst thing in the world.” 

“Hannibal, I want to come with you.” 

“Come with me.” 

\-- 

Half an hour later, Will stood at the entryway to his house with Hannibal. 

He slipped his jacket on and had with him a small bag of the barest essentials. _‘I will give you everything you need,’_ Hannibal had told him, and Will believed him. 

“Are you ready?” Hannibal asked. 

“Yes,” Will replied. 

Hannibal opened the door and stepped out. The rain had stopped. He turned back and held out his hand. 

Will looked back at the dark, lonely interior of his house once more and realized that his life here had been over a long time ago. His home was right outside the door, holding out a hand to him in the most perfect invitation he could imagine. 

Turning, Will took Hannibal’s hand, their fingers fitting together by centuries of divine design, and walked out the door into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think, please.
> 
> Visit/Follow me on tumblr:  
> http://hannibelle-lecter.tumblr.com/


End file.
